Dangerous Christmas Memories

SIX

The Chinese takeout for dinner earlier had been tasty, but Luc now wished he hadn’t overindulged on the Szechuan chicken. He rolled over on the lumpy twin bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms and a mattress spring gouged his back. He couldn’t help but wonder if Mac assigned the room knowingly. The marshal had to be aware of Luc’s marriage to Priscilla—the other man came across as a by-the-book law-enforcement officer, who would do a thorough background check on anyone getting too close to his witness. Luc had been about to press the matter with the marshal, but the other agent announced dinner had arrived, and Mac suggested the discussion be tabled until later.

Priscilla had only picked at her food, then excused herself to go lie down. Why Mac hadn’t confirmed the marriage remained a puzzle, but ferreting his motivation to remain silent would have to be dealt with in the morning.

Of all the scenarios that Luc had thought of when finally face-to-face with Priscilla, he never factored in her utter lack of recognition. It was beyond his comprehension that she would have no memory of their meeting and hasty marriage. If she couldn’t recall him, it might make it easier to convince her to sign the annulment papers he’d had a lawyer draw up. All that was needed was both of their signatures on the document to delete their hasty union.

Luc blew out a breath and glanced at the bedside clock, which blinked 12:49 a.m. Maybe something hot to drink would settle his stomach and his mind enough to sleep. He tossed the blanket back and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing with the movement. The chilly air made him shiver and he reached for the clean dress shirt that one of the other agents had given him to wear. After donning the shirt, Luc gingerly slipped into his jeans and shoes, then descended to the first floor. He entered the kitchen through the open swing door.

Grayson looked up, a cup of steaming coffee by his elbow and a John Grisham novel in his hand. “Hi, Luc. Need some pain meds?”

At the mention of medication, Luc decided it would be a good idea to get ahead of the pain, even though his arm ached only a little at the moment. “Some ibuprofen would be great.” Spotting a Keurig on the counter, he asked, “Got any decaf?”

“In the cupboard above the machine. Mugs too.”

Luc selected a pod and popped it in the machine. He then grabbed an I “heart” Coffee mug from the cabinet and spooned sugar into the mug before hitting Start. “Any chance there’s real cream?”

“Yeah, in the fridge.”

After the coffee dripped in, Luc added the cream, stirred and carried the mug to the table to sit opposite Grayson. “How about that ibuprofen?”

The agent reached into the first-aid kit still sitting on the table and slid a two-pack of pills across to Luc, who broke the seal and downed the contents. “Thanks.”

“You were fortunate the bullet only winged your arm.”

“I know.” Luc stared into the mug as if the creamy liquid held the secret to getting his life back on track. Now that he’d found Priscilla, he had more questions, and the only answer he’d found was why she’d disappeared all those years ago.

“I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation with Mac and Priscilla earlier.” Grayson regarded Luc over the rim of his mug before taking a sip and setting the mug on the table. “Mac’s top priority is keeping her safe, but he’s going to want details on how, exactly, you found her.”

Luc sighed. “You mean how I managed to track her down if she’s in witness protection?”

“Exactly.” Grayson tapped his fingers on the table. “So, how did you?”

“Are you playing good cop?” Luc scrubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath his fingers.

Grayson laughed. “Maybe, but you’ll have to tell us sooner or later.”

“And you’re saying it might as well be sooner.”

Grayson shrugged.

Luc considered, then shrugged himself. “Given you overheard my conversation with Mac and Priscilla, then you know my background in computer security.”

Grayson nodded. “You’re a hacker for the good guys, finding flaws in their computer security systems.”

Luc laughed. “That’s one way to put it. Along the way, I’ve made a lot of contacts with those who are not as concerned with who exactly are the good guys, as you put it. For some, it’s the challenge of the job that’s interesting, not the goal of the client or what the client will do with the information once the job’s completed.”

“In other words, you know some unethical people.”

“I like to think of it as keeping potential enemies on my good side.” Luc took another sip of coffee.

“Is there room for one more?” Priscilla spoke from behind him.

Luc twisted to see her standing in the doorway, fully dressed in clothes as wrinkled as his own. With her face scrubbed free of makeup and her long hair in a messy ponytail, she looked beautiful to Luc. Even her eyes were back to the blue he recalled—she must have removed her colored contact lenses. He didn’t care that he was staring—he had forgotten just how lovely she was.

“Sure.” Grayson answered her question. “If you want something hot, there are pods in the cabinet above the Keurig.”

Priscilla smiled her thanks. Luc admired her easy grace as she walked to the machine. She quickly made a cup and carried it to the kitchen table, easing into the chair to his left.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Luc wrapped his hands around his mug.

She smothered a yawn behind her hand. “After the day I’ve had, it’s not too surprising. I did manage to catch a few hours’ rest after dinner, but now I can’t get back to sleep.”

“What’s not surprising?” Mac entered the kitchen and headed straight to the Keurig.

“That we couldn’t sleep,” Luc supplied.

Glass shattered, accompanied by a whooshing sound. “Get down, now!” Mac shouted.

Luc dived out of his chair, his hand shooting out to grab Priscilla’s arm to tug her down after him. Luc pushed Priscilla under the table, his hand sliding down her arm to grasp her hand, just as an acrid scent permeated the house.

“The couch is on fire!” Mac yelled into his earpiece to alert the other marshals, then swung shut the kitchen door leading to the dining room before moving to the sink and turning on the faucet. He opened a drawer and yanked out a stack of kitchen towels.

Another crash indicated a second projectile had likely been thrown into the house.

“Put this under the door to buy us some time.” Mac tossed Luc a soaked kitchen towel.

Luc let go of Priscilla’s hand to catch the towel, then wedged the wet fabric into the crack at the bottom of the door. Once it dried, the smoke would seep into the room again.

“We have to get out of here! I’m going to check the back,” Grayson said, crawling to the back door.

“Be careful, Grayson!” Mac called as he handed Priscilla another soaked towel. “Tie this over your nose and mouth.”

Grayson slowly pulled open the door. Gunshots erupted and a torrent of bullets shredded the wooden door. Grayson crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood.

Mac shoved a wet towel into Luc’s hands, then dropped to his knees beside the downed marshal and placed his fingers on the man’s neck. His eyes met Luc’s. “He’s gone.” Mac swallowed hard, then tied his own wet towel over his mouth and nose.

A man was dead, and they would soon follow from smoke inhalation or fire. A little smoke filled the room already. Luc pressed the cold wetness against his nose and mouth as he tied the towel behind his head. Immediately, he breathed a little bit easier, but he could hear the fire roaring behind the kitchen. Priscilla huddled beside him. “Is there another way out?”

Mac’s face settled into grim lines. “We could try a back bedroom window.”

“There’s some kind of hatch underneath the rug in the hallway.” Priscilla’s eyes watered above her towel. “I tripped on the rug earlier tonight and saw it. Maybe it leads to a crawl space?”

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